


A "Sickly" Ineffable Christmas

by DeadlyWritings



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Angst, Aziraphale and Crowley in Love (Good Omens), Christmas, Christmas Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Fluff and Hurt/Comfort, Ineffable Husbands (Good Omens), M/M, Romantic Fluff, Sick Character, Sick Crowley (Good Omens), Soft Aziraphale (Good Omens), Soft Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-30
Updated: 2020-10-03
Packaged: 2021-03-06 04:26:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 2,837
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25617331
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DeadlyWritings/pseuds/DeadlyWritings
Summary: Taking place after Armagedidn't, the Ineffable couple enjoy their first ever Christmas day together in each other's company but a snowstorm tears a minor hole in their week long joy. A demon's stubbornness would be his downfall, though not all is a total loss.Enjoy!
Relationships: Aziraphale & Crowley (Good Omens)
Comments: 8
Kudos: 28





	1. Chapter 1

**The first Ineffable Christmas**

The angel and demon's couple first ever Christmas was an exciting time in the bookshop and they were both determined to make it a special one. Crowley did have a secret adoration for decorating, particularly the Christmas tree. Though he did not care about the celebration itself, decorating was always a fun hobby that occupied his mind. To Aziraphale, it was an excuse to of course, enjoy more hot cocoa and read his favorite Christmas novel, A Christmas Carol by Charles Dickens himself. He enjoyed decorating the bookshop himself, by hanging up a Christmas reef on the door, candy canes and stockings on the fireplace. He hung up spruce garlands that lit the bookshop subtly and the bookshop was filled with Christmas carols and songs. 

Over the week, a soft blanket of snow covered the streets and the trees of central London, Aziraphale considered it to be some kind of miracle. Snow in London was a rare and surprising treat in the winter and it was often greeted differently according to each resident and citizen. Though the majority would step out of their homes and travel to the Christmas markets and fairs to enjoy a bag of roasted chestnuts. Crowley had wrapped up relatively warm but not warm enough for the cold weather during the week. He had clearly underestimated the bitter cold climate outside the warm bookshop as they ventured to the Christmas market for the duration of the week. Aziraphale, the sensible angel that he was, would wrap up warm. He would adorn himself in a woollen scarf that was patterned with his own tartan, a thick winter coat that was a slight shade darker than his usual coat, and a pair of winter boots that matched the darker cream colored coat. Every evening, when the couple had attended the Christmas market, Aziraphale would always fuss and try to persuade the stubborn demon to wrap up a little warmer, in order to protect his “human earth form”. Crowley of course, dismissed these comments and simply proceeded as always. Fashion over comfort was always his way, though that stubbornness would eventually be his downfall.

On the 23rd December there had been warnings of a potential snowstorm, people were issued a warning to stay inside if possible. The demon, disappointed, switched off the radio in the Bentley as he drove to the angel’s bookshop in Soho. The snow had already been coming down quite rapidly that evening and the sky was darkening as early as four o’clock, when he had parked the car and swaggered his way into the bookshop. The doors were pushed open and the Christmas songs rang out on the vintage record player in the bookshop, the lights catching his serpentine eyes behind his sunglasses.

 _“Angel!”_ He called out, announcing his entrance quite boldly and a cough sounded from his throat, causing him to clear his throat a couple of times. He grunted in annoyance, his throat had been bothering him lately and he had been sneezing an awful lot in the last 24 hours. Crowley brushed those off, of course because a demon simply does not get sick. It just did not happen and it certainly would not happen. 

_"Right here! You ought to do something about that cough, my dear. It sounds rather concerning. I thought demons could not contract illnesses..?"_ Replied the angel with a tone of concern in his voice. He came through to greet the demon from his office at the back of the bookshop.

The demon was puzzled of course because the angel was not dressed in his full winter gear, it was clear he had heard the weather report too. He had arrived in his Bentley to pick up Aziraphale and attend the Christmas market, perhaps even go for a drive together once they were done. Just as they had planned.   
  
_"Why aren't you dressssed?"_ He quizzed him. 

_"Why, have you not heard the news? There has been a report issued that there will be a-"_  
  
_"Yeah I know, a snowstorm. I heard the news, angel."_ He cut Aziraphale off mid sentence.

_"Erm..right yes, of course. So, you would know that it is certainly not wise to be going out in this weather. Out of the question."_

Crowley scoffed in response and rolled his eyes. This resulted in a very uncomfortable look on the angel's face and a huff, as his arms crossed.

 _"You cannot actually be suggesting that we go out, when there is a snowstorm brewing! Be sensible, Crowley!"_ He replied insistently.

Crowley, did not care of course for such weather reports or the angel's protests. It was their first Christmas and some stupid snowstorm was not going to ruin it. This stubbornness was rooting from a place of need, he needed this Christmas to be perfect and in his eyes, he just could not comprehend why Aziraphale would not want the same thing. Though the angel was insisting that they did not go out, and to instead, spend it inside together. 

"It is just a snowstorm, Crowl-"

 _"So if 's jus' a sssnowstorm, then why won't you go out?!"_ The demon raised his voice.

 _"Do you not understand how dangerous it is to be out during a snowstorm?!_ " Aziraphale's vocal pitch rose a couple of octaves, which often happened when he was distressed. 

_"Why can't you underssssstand that I jussst want to spend time with you?!"_ The demon yelled in return, the hissing increasing throughout the sentence. _"Frankly, I don't know what I'm ssstill doing here, I'm going out with or without you."_

The angel remained silent as he looked off to the side. _"Fine, but just wrap up warm will y-"_

The door slammed behind Crowley, cutting off the angel's sentence again that evening.


	2. Lost in the snowstorm

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Crowley unfortunately falls sick due to his stubbornness to go out during a snowstorm. Fret not, for his angel comes to his rescue!

The minutes had begun to pass since the serpent had stormed out and Aziraphale had half expected him to storm through the door, apologize for his stubbornness and scoop the angel up in his arms. Alas, he did not return and the angel bowed his head in defeat and walked off to sit in his chair and try to read, after he made his mug of hot cocoa with a sprinkle of cinnamon. He could not sit still, however and burying his nose into “A Christmas Carol” was proving to be a challenge. His cocoa had gone tepid and worst of all, Crowley was out after two hours. The argument had not gone well and he had stormed out in a temper, which only made Aziraphale regret not fighting for his case even more. He kept glancing back to the window and to the door, the nervousness bubbling inside of him as he watched the snowstorm brew stronger and stronger. With every moment that passed, Crowley was just not returning.

_ "Confound it!” _ He muttered under his breath irritably, and closed his book after bookmarking his page. 

Although truthfully, he had not processed any of the words on the pages that he had read. Aziraphale rose from his chair promptly, wrapped himself as warm as he could and added a pair of pilot goggles to see clearly through the storm. He was going to fly and look for him. It was most certainly unsafe to fly in such weather conditions, but desperate times called for desperate measures. He set off flying as soon as he stepped out of the bookshop, being sure to lock it. Wings spanned widely as he flew over the usual walking route to the market as quick as he could in search of the demon. Aziraphale knew that Crowley could not make it so far with those cold feet, he kept his senses out for Crowley’s dark demonic aura.  Bingo. He was correct. Crowley had barely made it too far from the bookshop as Aziraphale swept himself lower to the ground and slowly landed close to the demon who was passed out clean in the small mountain of snow. The snow had only increased, the snowflakes illuminated by the glow of the street light in the darkness of the winter eve.  The angel warily but quickly approached the passed out demon and quickly pushed the snow away from his body. Aziraphale picked up Crowley and carried him on his back all the way to the bookshop, Crowley’s arms and legs wrapped around the angel from behind. Giving the demon a piggyback ride back to the bookshop in the heavy snowstorm. 

_ “We there ye’..?” _ His voice was hardly a whisper and a hoarse cough erupted from the demon, followed by violent sniffling. He truly had managed to get himself sick. 

_ “Yes, yes we are my dear.” _ Aziraphale replied with a hushed whisper.

Aziraphale entered the bookshop, whilst holding a half conscious and sick Crowley on his back. He promptly rushed upstairs to lay the demon down onto the bed. Stripped him of his wet clothes and changed him into his black silk pajamas (with a miracle). He then wrapped the demon in his warm tartan blanket.   


Crowley lay in bed, miserable and ill. His shivers from the cold had turned into feverish shakes despite being wrapped up in warm blankets. His headache felt like his skull was being drilled into from either side of his head, his eyes could not stay open, his throat felt scratchy and he could barely breathe. Though when the angel walked back into the bedroom, it truly felt like he was the light at the end of a hopeless tunnel. Aziraphale brought in a bowl of hot chicken noodle soup (with a spicy kick), paracetamol, vapor rub and a hot cup of honey and lemon tea. The angel was the absolute embodiment of determination and he would be damned if he did not nurse his demon back to health. 

_“There now..”_ Aziraphale cooed as he sat himself down in front of Crowley and placed the tray on his lap.

Crowley sat up and began to practically slurp down some of the soup. “Mmm..’s good..” He muttered after swallowing a couple of mouthfuls. He also drank down his cup of tea with two paracetamol pills. The angel watched silently, worry creeping onto his face but was replaced with a look of tender love. 

_“I am just going to spread some vapor rub onto your chest once you have eaten. This should assist with opening up your sinuses and help you breathe better.”_ He piped up, hands wringing together slightly with concern. Ceasing the wringing, Aziraphale simply clasped his hands on his lap and waited patiently for Crowley to finish.

_"Thank you, angel.."_ Crowley replied, his voice had returned but sounded scratchy and rather sore.

Crowley, now moderately full of chicken noodle soup sometime later. He had only eaten about half the bowl but the mug of hot honey and lemon tea was fully drained. Sweat pooled at his forehead and chest, which signified that his fever had finally broken. Aziraphale moved closer to Crowley and unbuttoned his black silk pajama shirt and put it aside to be washed for later. He gently dipped his fingers into the vapor rub and spread a generous amount on his chest. Once the vapor rub was spread onto the demon’s chest, he slipped on another shirt and lowered the tray aside. He slid down and tried to get some sleep, while Aziraphale rose to tuck him in and make sure he was comfortable, dabbing away the sweat from his forehead and chest with a cool towel. 

Although things had not gone precisely to plan for either of them, it was the first time (and last time) that one of them got sick. It brought about a soft and intimate moment, entrusting his angel to nurse him back to health made up for the ultimate bond and built trust between the two of them. It was not the Christmas they had anticipated but they would both definitely make an occasion of it together. And as Crowley fell asleep, the two both knew that their first Christmas would mark a memory to the both of them, far into their foreseeable future. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am so happy with how soft this fic is! I am trying to debate whether I do a whole chapter of Crowley being nursed to health or skip ahead two days in the story line to Chapter 3 and write about their Christmas?  
> Let me know in the comments!


	3. A Christmas Miracle

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A chapter full of nursing and wholesomeness!

‘Twas Christmas Eve, a day that is typically filled with anticipation for the following morning, was now a day in which a rather exhausted angel was nursing a sick-but-on-the-mend demon. Nursing a demon back to health was no easy task whatsoever, and certainly no laughing matter. Particularly not a stubborn one like Crowley was. He was either insisting that he felt fine and did not wish to be fussed over, to whining and complaining about how ill he was. Though of course, he just wanted this dreaded illness to go away. The angel, patient as ever, knew that it would not be tactful if he brought up that it was Crowley’s stubbornness that got him into this flu. Although he was most certain that Crowley was well aware of this information already. 

_ “Uuuughh..” _ Came a groan from a sinus-stuffed serpent, it would have been forty-eight hours since he had stormed out stubbornly into the harsh cold. Thankfully, his fever had only just begun to die down.

_ “What is it, my dear? What do you need?” _ Aziraphale responded in a gentle and concerned manner. He approached wearily and helped the demon to sit up after plumping his pillow and propping it up behind him. He then climbed in beside Crowley and let his head, now pulsing with a headache, resting on the soft chest of his angel. Aziraphale then handed him a hot mug of honey and lemon - a classic drink for a flu. 

_ “Apart from this flu to piss the Hell off? Nothing really. You being here ‘s perfect. ‘S all I need..” _ He grumbled and carefully held the mug in his hand by the handle and sipped slowly, emitting a hiss at the rush of heat harshly greeting his tongue. 

_ "Oh dear, is that too hot..? If I am honest, the hotter the better. It will soothe your chest and throat immensely.” _ The angel reassured. 

_ “On the bright side, your fever has broken and you are on the mend. I will bring you some soup later and some medicine once you have had plenty of rest. For now, I suggest that you eat some light buttered toast and these gingerbread cookies I made.”  _ He handed a plate of buttered toast and two gingerbread cookies for Crowley to nibble on. 

_ “Oh, and do take your medicine with it and keep drinking your tea. I will leave you to it if you wish-” _

_ "No! No...stay here, please? "  _ Crowley cut him off and then continued once he had cleared his throat. _"_ _ I wish for you to stay here, until I fall asleep..” _ He chewed through his breakfast slowly while Aziraphale held him. The angel’s face melts with affection upon the request, followed by gentle flashes of love towards the demon. Crowley swallowed down his breakfast followed by the flu medication. He waited about an hour for the medicine to kick in and gradually began to doze off in the angel’s arms. 

The day went by rather quickly as far as Crowley was concerned, he slept most of the day away. The clock read 5PM when Crowley trudged his way down the stairs to find Aziraphale, as always, rather absorbed in a book. The demon cleared his throat to announce his arrival and the angel’s eyes glanced upwards from his book, a rather surprised “oh!” was heard from him as he snapped out of his book. He removed his glasses and rubbed his eyes, glancing at the clock and then back at the demon. 

_“Ah, you look significantly better, my dear! You truly look like you have perked up. How are you feeling?”_ A small smile of relief graced his features, he placed a bookmark inside of his book and rose from his chair and walked over to wrap his arms around the demon in a warm and secure hug.

_“Yeah I feel much better honestly. Guess I just needed to sleep it off, ‘s usually how I deal with any sort of ailment really.”_ Crowley replied, attempting to shrug it off but inside he was beaming and he welcomed the embrace of the angel. He truly did look much better and the color was blossoming on his cheeks to symbolize his health. 

_“Could do with something to eat though."_ He added. _"Not having soup again, I'm a bit sick of it. What about a mince pie, proper food of the season!”_ He grinned at the angel.

_“Right! Yes of course, coming right up!”_ Aziraphale flashed a grin in return, and set to place mince pies in the center of the table followed by two plates of ham, potatoes and vegetables with mugs of mulled wine. 

**And so...**

An angel and a demon, dined and chatted excitedly by candlelight and joyful singing. They raised toasts for one another and greeted Christmas together the next morning with welcoming arms. This truly was a Christmas miracle and it was their first of many wonderful Christmases together. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this was so rushed towards the end!  
> I have a new fic coming very soon in the next couple of days as well as an update to the vampire and familiar AU (I've not abandoned it!)
> 
> Thank you very much for reading!   
> Kudos and comments are very much appreciated, I love reading them all!

**Author's Note:**

> A quick written fic on the spot, inspired by @whiteleyfoster's recent commission piece (Linked here: https://www.instagram.com/p/CDRu5k7Fa2J/ )  
> Not sure how many chapters this would be, 3 maximum? I certainly enjoyed this little writing exercise based on an art piece.


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